


Saint Potter

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Captivity, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is judged by the people they associate with, but it's hardly Scorpius Malfoy's fault this his father is a cruel and merciless monster. Thankfully, Harry will come to realise that the old saying 'like father, like son' isn't always true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saint Potter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HPFangirl71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFangirl71/gifts).



> Written for a prompt submitted by hpfangirl71 for harry_submits 2011. I loved my prompt and I can honestly say I've never been so excited. I've even written several thousand words of backstory that just wouldn't fit into this fest piece, and I'm quite sure I'll be setting more fics in this world in the future. I have thanked the mods so many times, but here I am thanking them again, along with my beta d_andru. All your help, encouragement and kind words have been very much appreciated.

One of Harry's pet peeves was that no matter what celebration the Malfoy's had, he could hear it. It didn't help that the door to the cellar was at the end of the drawing room, where they had all their parties. It was convenient for when Malfoy wanted to show Harry off, but from Harry's perspective, it was nothing but a reminder of the life he had once had. It was so long ago he didn't even really remember attending a party purely as a guest. He had vague memories of Bill and Fleur's wedding but if he recalled correctly, that was the day they'd been forced to go on the run.

From what Pansy had been telling him (for the last couple of decades, Harry had been the one she came to when she wanted to gossip, purely because nobody else would listen), today was Scorpius' 16th birthday. He looked remarkably like his father, so it didn't surprise Harry too much when Pansy admitted she found him attractive. He was of age now, but it creeped Harry out to think Pansy had been eyeing him up before.

Harry had only ever met Scorpius twice. Once when he was a toddler (and Astoria had completely freaked out and sworn once more that she'd get rid of Harry) and again just before he went to Hogwarts. Nobody but Harry and Scorpius knew about this second encounter. Scorpius had been running around playing hide and seek when he stumbled upon the cellar; presumably Malfoy must have left it open, and he spent several very long seconds staring at Harry. Not really knowing what to do, Harry had stared back. These two simple interactions had convinced Harry that Scorpius was exactly like Malfoy, though he was judging mainly on looks.

As far as Harry was aware, it was pretty common knowledge in the wizarding world that Harry was Draco Malfoy's consort and property. In fact, he even thought he'd overheard someone say it was written down in several history books. Unfortunately for Harry and Astoria, it looked as though he was going to be stuck with the monster for life. That was a very depressing thought and one Harry really didn't like to entertain.

So he did what he always did when the Malfoys had parties: he drew on the wall with a small rock. He'd actually got rather good at it considering he'd always been shite when it came to art, and was so completely lost in the elephant he was trying to design he didn't even hear the cellar door open.

He heard the person land at the bottom of the stairs, though. His head whipped round as he noticed that they'd fallen, half hoping it was Malfoy and the fall would kill him. No such luck. It was Scorpius; Harry could tell by the slightly shorter and ever so slightly darker hair.

"P-P-Potter?"

It would seem that Malfoy and Astoria were out for the evening, since Scorpius appeared to have raided their cupboards and drunk all the alcohol he could find. With Scorpius being two years under the drinking age, Harry was sure Astoria wouldn't even let him touch a drop. That was probably why he was so drunk now, because he just wasn't used to it.

Harry wasn't really sure how to react, so he simply watched as Scorpius pulled his hair out of his face and tried to stand up. It took a lot of leaning on the wall but he eventually managed it. 

"Crispin said he saw where my father put his Firewhiskey last time he came over. Thought it'd be a good idea to have a bit."

It was rather obvious that Scorpius had had a lot more than just 'a bit'. This encounter was strange and tainted by the fact that if Malfoy or Astoria ever found out they'd probably blame Harry and beat two shades of shit out of him for it.

Scorpius squinted at him; presumably, his vision was blurry due to the drink. "What are you doing, _Saint Potter_?"

"Nothing," Harry said casually, moving towards the bars in an attempt to cover up the elephant 'drawing'. "Hang on, 'Saint Potter'?" 

"That's what they call you," Scorpius slurred, walking forwards until they were face to face, only inches away from each other. Harry wanted to ask exactly who 'they' were, but was too distracted by exactly what Scorpius was doing and whether he needed to get out of the way if there was going to be any projectile vomiting.

On the contrary and completely out of the blue, Scorpius decided to lean through the bars and kiss him. Right on the lips. It was quick and they'd hardly touched, but it was the softest contact Harry could ever remember having. Embarrassed, Scorpius began muttering over and over to himself as he slowly backed up and went back to his party, leaving Harry more than a little confused.

●

"Sorry."

Harry turned to face the man— _boy_ , he was only just sixteen—apologising to him. "Forget it," Harry said. Everyone took a piece of him these days so he supposed it didn't matter about one more.

"I shouldn't have done that. I was drunk. You won't tell my father, will you?"

Harry sighed. "I wouldn't tell that bastard anything. But can you please explain why 'they'—whoever 'they' are—call me 'Saint Potter'?"

"Nickname," Scorpius said shortly. "Taking the piss out of you. What happened to your face?"

That was rather random, Harry thought, though he knew he had a fresh scar there. Macnair had hired him out last night and had had great fun using his beloved collection of knives on Harry. "Macnair," Harry said coldly. Scorpius brought his right hand up and let his fingers softly trace the scar. They were warm and soft, such a contrast to the callous, gruff ones that usually touched his body. Scorpius' other hand found Harry's free one and pulled it through the bars and in between his robes. Harry knew exactly where this was going; it had happened so many times before. Out of habit, or maybe even because he sort of wanted to, Harry obliged.

He allowed his hand to be guided to the zip of Scorpius' trousers and pulled it down, undoing the button too. He reached his hand inside Scorpius' underpants and freed his cock, which was only semi-hard.

"This is okay?" Scorpius asked.

"Why not," Harry replied quietly, slowly rubbing his right hand up and down Scorpius' cock in a rhythm that suited them both. Scorpius began to grow in size and Harry was pleased to find that he was considerably larger than his father, which really wasn't saying much. Harry applied more pressure and sped up now Scorpius was hard, wanking him the way he used to wank himself. If the low moans and groans were anything to go by, this was a pleasurable experience for the young man. Before long he was convulsing slightly and then covered Harry's hand in his come. 

Harry didn't mind, he'd often been coated in come, but Scorpius apparently did. He blushed and couldn't look Harry in the eye, shoving Harry's hand away and putting his cock back in his robes. He had a quick check to make sure there were no obvious traces of come upon him and then dashed off without a word.

Scorpius' had left Harry feeling confused, yet again. He couldn't work out why Scorpius had attempted to kiss him or why he'd guided Harry to his cock. Perhaps he'd heard the many Death Eaters bragging about what they'd done, or maybe he just wanted to experience 'Saint Potter' for himself. Regardless, Harry couldn't really have said no anyway. Scorpius was Malfoy's son and one word that Harry had refused would end in a world of pain.

It was just easier not to make a fuss.

●

The next time Scorpius came to visit, Harry took his usual stance and just sat and watched him silently. This was Scorpius' playing field, not his. It would be Scorpius who decided what was happening and when, just like everyone else did. Although he wasn't quite as vocal as the others were and seemed to like watching Harry as though he were in a zoo.

"I'm not like them," Scorpius said at last. "I'm not like my father."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Scorpius looked like he was being genuine, but Harry had learnt firsthand the cruel tricks the Death Eaters could play. "You don't have to justify yourself to me." It was true. Nobody did anymore.

"I don't care." Scorpius was sat on the bottom step of the cellar, as far away from Harry as he could possibly be. "I'm telling you. I'm nothing like them. I was just testing the waters with you. I would have stopped if you'd asked."

Except Harry wouldn't have ever dared to ask such a thing. Though it struck him then that the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. At absolutely no point did he wish Scorpius to stop or believe he was being used. Usually he thought of all sorts of curses in his head and nasty things he could say to them when they weren't around to hear, but he actually _enjoyed_ the kiss and the handjob. "I wouldn't have asked," Harry said at last. "What's one more?" Scorpius looked hurt then and Harry was quick to continue. "But you were different. I don't know; I liked it. You felt nice. Warm, soft, _alive_."

"Er, thanks," Scorpius said. He didn't move from his position but he did meet Harry's eyes, and Harry noticed that they were the only facial features that weren't exactly like his fathers. Scorpius' eyes were brown, like Astoria's, whereas Malfoy's were grey. Harry wished he didn't know that but he'd spent far too long looking up into those grey eyes and hating them to not know what colour they were. "You wouldn't recognise the world if you went out now."

Scorpius seemed to like to make a habit of saying or doing things completely out of the blue. Considering Harry's days were so mundane, it was really rather refreshing.

"I've read about how it was back when you were my age," Scorpius continued. "They go on and on about how dark and dangerous it was in History of Magic, but there are some books in the Restricted Section that accurately depict it. I'm positive the Muggleborns weren't as violent and barbaric as they try to make out."

"No," said Harry firmly, thinking of Hermione. "They weren't. My friend, she... She was the brightest witch of her age."

Suddenly there was a crash from upstairs. Scorpius jumped up from the step as fast as lightning, panic written all over his face and his wand firmly held in his right hand. _He has the reflexes of a Seeker,_ Harry thought. Then he remembered that Malfoy had been a Seeker when they'd been at school together, so it was hardly surprising. 

"I'd better go," Scorpius said worryingly. Harry just gave him a knowing nod as he ran up the stairs and carefully exited the cellar.

If nothing else, the Malfoys had no idea their son was visiting Harry, giving him an automatic advantage. Even if he was the only one that knew he had one up on Malfoy, it was certainly better than not having one at all.

●

Winter was coming. Harry could tell by the warmer clothes Scorpius was wearing. Soon it would be Christmas, though Harry suspected that it would be over and done with before he even tried to gauge that it was December.

They stayed in silence for a long while. It was the first time they'd seen each other since they'd had that rather intimate talk a while ago, though Harry suspected that was because of Hogwarts and not because Scorpius didn't want to see him.

"Are you a Seeker?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. Ever since he'd seen Scorpius' reflexes, he'd really wanted to know if Scorpius had followed in Malfoy's shoes, or even better, if they still had time to play Quidditch. Harry hoped so.

"Yes," Scorpius replied coolly. He was biting his lip and it was plainly clear something was bothering him. "Pansy said you seem sad."

This caught Harry off guard. He didn't know what to say to that. He didn't even think Pansy was that observant, let alone that she'd go talking about how he appeared to someone else. "She did?"

Scorpius nodded. "She said she can usually get a rise out of you but that you don't seem fazed anymore. Just tired and sad. As though you've had enough."

"I had enough a long time ago, mate," Harry said.

"Are you sad?" Scorpius was staring at him intently from his spot across the room. He hadn't transfigured a chair like any of Harry's other 'guests' did. He was content with sitting on the floor against the wall.

Harry shrugged.

"Why?" The fact that Scorpius was showing a genuine interest in Harry's welfare was at least proof that he was nothing like his father. Malfoy had never given a toss whether or not Harry was sad, happy or indifferent.

"Just thinking, that's all. I've been doing it a lot recently. I used to block it out."

"Thinking about what?"

"My friends." Ever since Scorpius had reminded him of Hermione, he'd been unable to get her out of his head. He was worrying himself sick all over again, just like he used to when he'd first been given to Malfoy. Over the years it'd been easier not to think about the life he'd had, but that reminder had brought all Harry's childhood memories back.

"Tell me about them. I've heard of Hermione and Ron."

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes met Scorpius'. "Heard of them? What do you know? Tell me!" He jumped up and ran to the bars, grasping his palms around them and clenching tightly. "Tell me all you know!"

"Shush," Scorpius stressed. "Mother is only upstairs."

"Then tell me," Harry hissed.

"Most history textbooks have them in, though there's less information of them than there is of you. I can bring you one if you like."

"What do they say? Do they say what happened to them?" Harry hadn't had a scrap of news about Ron and Hermione in all the time he'd been Malfoy's consort. The last he'd seen of them they'd been in the courtyard when he faced down Voldemort and dramatically lost, but when he looked again, they'd disappeared. Whether they scarpered or were taken, Harry didn't know. No amount of begging Malfoy or listening to Pansy had ever even given him a hint of their fates. He'd managed to convince himself that if they'd died, Malfoy would have taken great pleasure in letting him know, so they couldn't possibly be dead.

"Yes," Scorpius said quietly. He was looking awkwardly at the floor now. "But you won't like it."

"I _need_ to know," Harry insisted. "I've been going insane thinking about them all these years. I have to know, Scorpius. I have to."

As if suddenly worried they were being watched, Scorpius stepped forward towards the bars and spoke quietly. "Hermione belongs to Pansy, but Ron is, erm, dead."

Now it was Harry's turn to look at the floor. He wasn't sure how to react. It was several long minutes before he said anything, though it was pretty much choked out. "Hermione's like me?"

Scorpius nodded. "So was Ron, but his constant refusals to do anything or comply with their wishes got him killed."

"How long ago?"

"Twenty-one years."

One of Harry's best friends had been dead for twenty-one years, and he hadn't even known. The whole world had known, but not him. His other best friend wasn't much better off, suffering the same fate as he had, though when Pansy got drunk, and that was often, she was kinder than her cruel, hard sober self. "Have you seen her?"

Scorpius shook his head. "Yeah, a few times. And there are a lot of photographs of her as well. There's a book in the Restricted Section on consorts. You occupy most of it, but Hermione takes up a good chunk too. That's how I knew what Father was doing to you. There are pictures of you as well."

"How does Pansy treat her? Is she well?"

"Pansy loves her to death, actually. Heavily relies on her. You're not the only one Pansy gossips to, you know. Though I suspect you would be if she were allowed to talk to you about Hermione. Father forbid that the second Pansy won Hermione at the auction, though. He's never rescinded it, though Pansy tells me she keeps asking. I think Hermione often asks her."

For the first time in his life, Harry was actually grateful for Pansy. If it weren't for her, Hermione would probably have been bought by one of the brutal men that liked to shame and humiliate him. That thought sickened him, though he was comforted by the fact that Pansy wasn't the sharing type.

"Thank you." Harry really meant it, more than anything. Though Ron's death was a blow to his bubble, at least he knew Ron was finally safe. As for Hermione, she seemed to be as safe as she possibly could be in this world. He smiled at the thought of Malfoy relying on him. That would never happen. Malfoy was far too vain to realise he needed other people in his life.

"S'alright." Scorpius shrugged in that teenage sort of way. "I'd best be off now. Don't want mother to see me gone for too long."

Harry nodded. He wanted a bit of time to be alone anyway. Where once he used to push his memories to the back of his mind, now he wanted to bring them to the forefront and appreciate them for what they were: the happy times in his life.

●

"Merry Christmas!" Scorpius said cheerily, coming down the stairs. It was Christmas Day, then. Harry had been guessing it was the end of October, but as predicted, he'd been far off.

"How did you get down here?" Harry hissed.

"Everyone's in the parlour now. I managed to sneak down here before the house elves cleaned the drawing room. Here, hold out your hands." Harry frowned, but did so anyway. Scorpius placed several large pieces of white meat into them. A quick sniff confirmed his suspicions that it was turkey, and the scraps were gone within seconds. 

"I _love_ turkey," Harry said through a mouthful. "Thanks." It felt rich and juicy on his tongue and tasted so much better than he ever remembered. Though he assumed that was because he hadn't had food that actually tasted of anything in many years.

"I didn't want to bring you too much because I didn't want you to get ill and father to suspect. How are you, after last night?"

Harry shrugged. "As to be expected." He thought about asking Scorpius how he knew about the Death Eater party last night, but wasn't really sure he wanted to know. It had taken place down here in the dungeon, so there'd been no mention of Christmas at all. In a way he supposed that was a good thing, for Christmas still held some happy memories for him and he didn't want them to be tainted too.

"How do you cope?" asked Scorpius, placing his hands on the bars. They were only a few inches apart now.

"No bloody choice," Harry replied. "I can't even go insane. I reckon your father put an end to that."

"That'd be just like him," Scorpius muttered. Harry suspected that at least something must have happened over the years between father and son, for Scorpius didn't seem to have a high opinion of Malfoy at all.

"Here," Harry said quietly, placing his hands through the bars and into Scorpius' robes. "Let me make things better."

Scorpius laughed as Harry undid his zip and button and pulled out his cock, and then got down on his knees. "It should be the other way round. Someone pleasing you for a change."

"I like to please," Harry said quietly, blowing softly on Scorpius' growing cock. He jerked Scorpius off for a few moments until he was as hard as a rock. "When I like the person, that is," Harry added. Then he opened his mouth wide and took Scorpius in as far as he could.

"You l-like me?" Scorpius moaned, closing his eyes as Harry's tongue wrapped around his head.

Harry didn't answer. Verbally, anyway. He showed his affection for the young man by running his tongue along Scorpius' shaft and then twirling it around his head. The pleasurable moans only increased when he attempted to take him whole, and would have been able to were it not for the bars. This was all Scorpius needed to start shooting his come down Harry's throat, and Harry keenly swallowed it all, making sure to lick Scorpius' head clean afterwards.

As usual, Harry expected Scorpius to back off and quickly disappear, but this time he took time in sorting out his robes. And then, he even spoke.

"I won't be back until spring."

Harry felt disappointed. "What about the rest of the Christmas break?"

"My father's taking me away. I'm not sure where. Not abroad, though."

Suddenly, Harry began to panic. If he recalled correctly, Malfoy was sixteen when he received the Dark Mark. "Scorpius," Harry said darkly, "be careful. Your father received Voldemort's mark at the same age you are now."

"I don't want to take the Mark," Scorpius said quickly.

"You have to. If you don't they'll suspect something," Harry reasoned. He didn't want to screw up Scorpius' life as much as his own was. "If that's what your father wants, do it. Or you'll end up like me."

"I'd be morally right."

Harry laughed; that was something Hermione would have said. "Morally right but living a shit life. Trust me, mate; it's not worth it. I can attest to that." Harry wasn't sure he believed the words coming out of his mouth, but he knew it was important for Scorpius to hear them. He couldn't turn down the Dark Mark. Not with Malfoy's powerful position. It just wasn't an option.

"Hmm." Scorpius grumbled. "I'll see you in spring. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," said Harry, for the first time in two decades. "And thanks again for the turkey."

Scorpius smiled as he turned to leave, and once more Harry was left alone and abandoned, wondering what Boxing Day would hold.

●

Winter ended and spring began, and Harry actually managed to keep a pretty good hold on the seasons for a change. This was all down to Pansy, who had been relegated to looking after Harry whilst Malfoy was away with his son, but Malfoy had been gone so long that Harry began to worry Scorpius wasn't even at Hogwarts for the spring term. Whenever he tried to ask Pansy she just evaded him, and the one question he _really_ wanted to ask her he wasn't able to because he wasn't supposed to know about Hermione.

Harry spent many days and nights wondering if Hermione was walking around on the floor above, catering to Pansy's every whim and doing everything she asked. He wondered if she was caught in the same trap that he was, between obeying and a lack of pain and the moral high ground with lots of pain. He hoped she'd made the decision to give in and do what was asked of her. He couldn't bear to think of her being treated the same way he was.

Eventually, Pansy went and Malfoy came back, but there was still no Scorpius. Days and weeks passed and Harry was sure it must have been getting to be summer by now, purely on the length of time he'd been alone. In fact, ever since Malfoy had taken Scorpius away, Harry had been left alone apart from two occasions, where he'd been used and abused by Nott and Zabini (Malfoy's closest friends). Why Malfoy was giving him a break Harry had no idea, but he was grateful.

And then, just when Harry had lost all hope of ever seeing Scorpius again, he reappeared. He looked a lot more like a man now than he did before. He was wearing a black suit and had the look of someone far older than his years. Whatever had happened to him in the past few months wasn't simply attending school.

"You didn't go back to Hogwarts, did you?" Harry said at last, breaking their silence. Scorpius shook his head. "Where were you?"

Scorpius cleared his throat before speaking. "You were right."

"The Dark Mark?"

"Yes. Amongst other things. Father wanted me to prove my loyalty." Harry was about to speak when Scorpius spoke again. ""I don't want to talk about it, but I do think I convinced him."

Harry wasn't even sure he wanted to know what Scorpius had had to do to prove his loyalty. He was just grateful it hadn't involved him. "What's the date?"

"It's early August," Scorpius said sadly. "I can't stay long. There's a funeral today. I think that's the only reason we came back. If Father had had his way, we would have stayed at the Death Eater Headquarters indefinitely, but my grandmother... She... She's not been well."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. He didn't really know anything about Narcissa Malfoy except that she was Malfoy's mum, and she was Scorpius' grandmother after all, so he didn't see any reason to insult her, especially not now.

Scorpius shrugged. "Yeah. Me too. I'll see you later."

"How long until the funeral?" 

Scorpius pulled a small pocket watch out of his top pocket. "Half an hour."

"We have a few minutes. Maybe I can ease some of your tension." In any other circumstance Harry knew this would have been the worst possible thing to say, but with really only each other for honest company, Harry knew Scorpius would see it for what it was: what it said on the tin. Simply releasing tension. 

"I didn't want to ask," Scorpius said quietly as he neared the bars. "I thought you'd see me as callous."

"Never." Harry quickly unzipped Scorpius' trousers and pulled out his cock, not even bothering to unbutton the button this time. Scorpius was already hard and raring to go, so this helped with the little time they had. Harry frantically wanked Scorpius off for all he was worth, sensing when he was getting close and placing the head of Scorpius' cock into his mouth. He licked his tongue around and sucked just as Scorpius exploded in him. It was quick, but all their encounters were. They had to be lest they get caught.

"One day, Harry," Scorpius started, and Harry realised it was the first time the young man had ever called him by his first name, "we won't have to rush this. Look forward to that day, if no other."

Then he was off, but at least he left Harry with some food for thought this time. He'd also allowed Harry to know that he felt exactly the same way, without expressly saying so. Clever man.

●

The upstairs commotion was beginning to make Harry's head hurt. He'd been attempting to sleep for what felt like hours now, but all he could hear was music, dancing and extremely loud people. Far too loud to be Death Eaters, so Harry presumed it was Scorpius' 17th birthday. After all, it had been some time since he'd last seen the lad and that was in early August, so it only made sense that it was now September.

Hour after hour went by until eventually the noise started to dwindle and people began to leave, and then the most extraordinary thing happened. All had been quiet for a while when the cellar door opened and there were footsteps on the stairs, but not just one set. It wasn't just Scorpius coming down as he'd first assumed, but rather two, maybe three people. He feared another one of the Death Eaters parties, but was pleased to see Scorpius, although not so pleased to see Malfoy, who was following behind him.

Malfoy looked at his son sceptically before asking, "Really?"

Scorpius nodded. "Of course, Father. I think it is my time now. Have I not proved myself to you, just as you once did to your father?" His voice was cold and calculated, unlike Harry had ever heard it before. It was much more on par with Lucius Malfoy's voice than Malfoy's, which was a scary thought of its own.

"You have," Malfoy agreed. He looked from Scorpius to Harry with pressing eyes, as though trying to see if there was something more he wasn't getting. For several panicked moments, Harry lay in bed and waited, until Malfoy was apparently satisfied. "Your wish is granted. I was getting bored, anyway."

"Thank you, Father." Malfoy passed something to Scorpius, which Harry couldn't see.

Malfoy turned to leave and then stopped, looking over his shoulder with one foot on the step. "Oh, and when your mother finds out, you're taking the blame."

"Oh, I'm sure the animal is worth it," Scorpius sneered, one so fitting to his father that Harry was momentarily worried. Then the cellar door shut behind Malfoy and the sneer was replaced with a snide smile. A smile that said 'we've done it'. "So, Saint Potter. You're all mine. How do you feel about that?"

Harry smiled. "Things couldn't have gone any better."

"Good." Scorpius then opened the door, and Harry realised that the key must have been what Malfoy passed his son. "Suck my cock, I want you to get it nice and wet. It's going in that juicy little arse of yours with as much lubricant as you provide."

This thought excited Harry like no other. He was so eager to please he practically knocked Scorpius over with his rush to get Scorpius' robes open. He brought out Scorpius' cock, which was already leaking precome, and began to tease the head.

Frustrated, Scorpius grabbed hold of the back of Harry's neck and forced his neck forward. If this were anyone else Harry would have tried to struggle, but he just enjoyed finally being able to deep throat. The bars had prevented him from being able to properly blow Scorpius before now.  
Just then, Harry felt a tingling sensation running through his veins. It was magic, pure and completely raw magic, flowing through his arms, through his chest and down to his legs. He pulled away from Scorpius and looked up to see the largest smile.

"I'm part Veela," Scorpius admitted. "Looks like you awakened my magic. I was told someone would have the power to do so, but I never thought it would be you."

Harry was speechless. To be bonded with someone who actually loved and cared for him was more than he could have ever hoped or dreamed for.

"You're mine in more than just words now, Harry." 

In contrast to the way Malfoy's words had instilled anger and fear in him all those years ago, Scorpius' filled him with a contentedness he never thought he'd feel.

Finally Harry was allowed his happy ever after.


End file.
